


Summer of Destiny

by CelticHeartedFanfic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, F/M, Family Drama, papafire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticHeartedFanfic/pseuds/CelticHeartedFanfic
Summary: Carson Gold is a World War II veteran and small business owner living a quiet life in Storybrooke, Maine.  He is a devoted father to his son, Bae.  His world is about to change upon meeting his son's friend and mentor, free-spirited high school history teacher Belle French.  This is a prompt AU which begins in May/June of 1967.  In order to participate in prompting me for future installments, please visit my Tumblr blog.  Rating is currently Mature but that may change to Explicit in the future.  This is primarily a Rumbelle fic but will include a good amount of Swanfire and Papafire.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi-chapter fic completely based on a list of Tumblr prompts. For a list of prompts or to submit a prompt for this fic, please visit my Tumblr blog. The first section of this chapter is set in May of 1967; the second section in June of 1967. This is going to a historical fanfic. There WILL be angst. I am sorry. Yes, I also know I have umpteen other fics to finish. I'm working on it. Talk to my muse - she hates me, maybe she'll listen to you.
> 
> Prompt for first chapter: "Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated. Thank you.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?" Bae asked as Gold poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Because this is, hopefully, the only wedding you'll have and I want it to be nice for you," Gold replied, then sat down at the table with his coffee.

"It'll be really nice, Papa – I love Emma and she loves me. We don't need some fancy country club wedding, that's just not our bag."

"Yes, I know what your 'bag' is – the two of you would prefer some barefooted outdoor wedding complete with one of those ridiculous hippie bands you like."

"Yeah – that'd be cool," Bae agreed as he smiled at his father.

"You know, if you'd have been more cautious you could have waited until you were a bit more settled in your job before you embarked on your little happily ever after," Gold reminded his son as Bae sat down at the table with his father.

"Hey – it's not my fault that it's so hard for girls to get the pill."

"How about keeping it in your trousers? That seemed to work well for me when I was a lad," Gold replied.

"Like it worked for you and mom?"

"Your mother was of age, for one thing."

"Emma's of age."

"She's barely nineteen years old, Bae. You're damn lucky her father didn't come after you with a shotgun. If she had been my daughter you'd be singing soprano right now."

"Papa – Emma and I are cool, okay? I've got a good teaching job lined up once school starts back, and Emma will be at home taking care of the baby. After the baby is born she might get a part-time job a couple nights a week if we need to. We'll manage. Now about the wedding."

"There is no 'about the wedding' – you're having it at the country club, Emma's parents agree about that and I'm paying for everything but the band. I'm the one who paid your way through school, you owe me this much. Plus, your mother will be there and she'll be blaming everything on me so I at least want this to look like it's a respectable occasion."

"See – that's the problem with your generation, Papa. You live in your little repressed boxes. Emma and I – we're happy with who we are. Maybe if you could say the same about yourself you wouldn't be so uptight all the time."

"I'm not uptight."

"Right. Sure you're not. Papa – we'll do your fancy country club wedding thing. But I'm not wearing a monkey suit. If you want to, that's cool with us, but Emma and I are wearing what we want, so you just need to stop freaking out about it." Gold sighed in disgust.

"Alright, fine. If you want to explain to your child when he or she is looking at your wedding photos someday why everyone else at your wedding is dressed in their best and you and his or her mother look like a couple of delinquents that's on you, son."

"Cool. I gotta go, Papa, I'm meeting Emma for lunch, we're gonna look at some stuff for the baby's room, see how much money we need to save the next few months."

"A lot more than you realize, Bae. You know – you can always come to me for help."

"I know – but we want to make our own way. You get that, right, Papa?"

"Of course. I'll see you later then." Gold took a sip of coffee as Bae left the room. He had always tried to do the best he could by his son. Bae may not have been born of love but he was very much loved. Gold met Bae's mother, Milah, at a pub in London in July of 1943. Gold was twenty-four years old, on a week's leave from the army. He had been promoted to Lieutenant and was celebrating with his friends before going off on their next assignment. Milah was young, and attractive, and American – Gold had never met an American girl before, and certainly didn't expect to meet one now, especially with all the turmoil and war, but he found out that apparently, those who had political clout and enough money to burn could arrange just about anything, even a vacation in war torn Europe. She was there with her family for the summer and they spent the week together. He expected to never see her again. Actually, he expected to never see anyone again. The war was taking a toll and he realized that the odds of him surviving his next assignment were fifty-fifty at best. Fortunately – or unfortunately, he often felt – he survived. He survived with a crippling injury that left him using a cane for the remainder of his life, a mind full of horrific memories of war that he'd rather repress and forget about – and a son.

Milah wrote to him with the news of his impending fatherhood. Her family was going to send her away to have the child and give the child up for adoption, but he would have no part of that. He promised her that as soon as the war was over, he would come for her – and their son. Milah's family, trusting him to be a man of his word, arranged for a marriage by proxy and took a train to Kansas, the nearest state where such a marriage was legal and binding. Milah sent him pictures of their son once he was born. Baden Gold was his name, born on the 24th of April in 1944. After his injury, Milah's letters and pictures of their boy were the only thing that got him through his recovery.

It wasn't until 1946 before Gold was well enough to travel to America to reunite with his bride and meet his son, a now rambunctious two-year-old boy. Gold loved his child at first sight. He knew the moment that he received his first hug from his son that he would do anything for the lad. His wife, however, was another story. He and Milah were not in love, and as they attempted to form a life together, it became clear that they never would be. Gold did everything he could to make them a family. He started his own business, and after a few struggles and some time learning the ropes in regard to business management in America, had a great deal of success. He applied for citizenship and was naturalized in 1953. He built a home for his wife and son, and was a faithful and good husband and father. But none of that mattered. He loved his son, but he wasn't truly happy. As time passed, he and Milah began to seek happiness elsewhere, both of them having affairs. Eventually the marriage simply crumbled. In 1959, when Bae was sixteen years old, they divorced, citing irreconcilable differences. Once Bae turned eighteen, Milah left town with one of her lovers, a man named Killian Jones. Bae went to Europe with some friends for a year, then he returned to the states and went off to college – and Gold was alone, aside from the times that his son would visit him. And the summers. The summers were always their time. Gold had given up his whole life for his son. Looking back, it was worth it. He regretted nothing. If a good life for his son meant that he had to spend the rest of his days alone, then so be it. He really didn't need anyone anyhow.

* * *

 

"Can I have a Scotch on the rocks, please?" Gold asked the bartender. Observing the crowd as he waited for his drink, he wasn't sure if he was happy, sad, or a combination of both. It was his son's wedding day – of course, he was supposed to be happy. He would have liked for his son to not parallel his life choices so closely but, as his boy had pointed out to him on multiple occasions – this was his life to live. They were happy, and Emma seemed to be a good fit for Bae despite their age difference. Once it was ready, Gold took his drink and walked toward the door, away from the joyful crowd. He didn't much care for crowds or noise and thought it best to keep to himself as much as possible for the evening. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass his son and his new daughter-in-law. As Gold stood at a distance to witness the festivities, someone clumsily bumped into him, causing his drink to spill all over his tuxedo.

"Oh – oh goodness, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," a soft, female voice said as Gold looked down at his sullied clothing.

"Obviously," Gold said dryly, then he looked up and found himself staring into the most beautiful set of blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"Here, let me see if I can clean it," the girl suggested. She had long brown hair and she was wearing a long yellow dress that was very stylish and just the right blend of formal and casual.

"It's alright, I'll – I'll take care of it." Gold limped away and headed toward the restroom. He looked over the damage to his suit, and realized that he would more than likely have to pay to have it professionally cleaned. He cleaned up the mess the best he could, then went back into the main hall. The girl in the yellow dress was standing near the guest book, signing her name. She looked up when she saw Gold returning.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"It's no matter; I'll take care of it."

"I'm so sorry. I'll have it cleaned for you, it was completely my fault."

"No – I'll handle it. Thank you."

"Can I get you another drink?" she asked.

"I'll get it later; perhaps this was a sign for me that I've had enough." Gold leaned on his cane and smiled a bit at the girl – good lord, was he flirting with her? Who was she? "So – you're a friend of Emma's I presume?"

"Both of them, actually. I'm – kind of the reason we're here. I was running late, I was so upset to miss the ceremony but I just couldn't miss the reception."

"How are you responsible for all of this?"

"Well – Bae was my assistant last year."

"Your assistant? For what?" Gold asked, now intrigued.

"Teaching. I'm a high school history teacher, Emma was one of the students in my senior class."

"You look quite young to be a high school teacher. Wouldn't have guessed you were that far out of high school yourself."

"Good genetics, I guess. I promise you – I'm old enough," the girl said, smiling at him a bit.

"Belle, hey! You made it!" Bae shouted as he ran over to the brunette and gave her a hug. "Emma's taking some pictures with her friends, she'll be so glad you made it. I see you met my Papa."

"Your – this is your father?" Belle asked.

"Yeah, this is him. Papa, this is Belle – remember, the one I worked with last year, I told you about her," Bae said.

"You didn't tell me everything about her," Gold commented. When Bae told him he was working as a teacher assistant, he pictured a teacher more like the ones he had encountered as a lad – strict, sullen, and older than dirt.

"Come on, Belle, there's some friends I want you to meet." Bae looked at Gold, noticing the stain on his tux. "How'd you manage that, Papa?"

"Just clumsy, I guess," Gold replied.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Gold," Belle said as she headed out into the crowd with Bae. Gold leaned on his cane and watched her until she disappeared from view.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely feedback for the first installment of this prompt verse! To submit prompts, please visit my Tumblr blog!
> 
> Important Author's Note: Due to the time period in which this verse takes place, in this verse (at least NOW), Mr. Gold has his short hair from S6.
> 
> This installment is based on the following prompts:
> 
> You can't have it both ways.
> 
> What's that behind your back?

Belle opened the door of the shop, and a tiny bell that hung on the inner door handle jingled as she entered. "Hello? Is anyone here?" Belle called out.

"Can I help you?" Gold asked as he came out of the back room.

"There you are. Hi – do you remember me?" Belle asked. "I'm -"

"Miss French. The woman that allowed my son to pursue an underage high school student, and also the woman who caused me to spill scotch on my tuxedo. Yes, I remember you well. What can I help you with?"

"Well, first of all, Emma was nearly eighteen when she met Bae, and they did not start seeing one another until class was over AND she had turned eighteen, so you're wrong on that count. And second – I did apologize for that and offered to have your suit cleaned."

"It's no matter. So – interested in making a purchase of some antiques?"

"No, not today – I was wondering if you might be interested in helping me with a little project I'm doing."

"And what would that be?" Gold asked as Belle moved closer, standing face to face with him on the other side of the counter. She was wearing a yellow mini-dress and a yellow bandana in her hair and Gold did his best to hide the fact that he couldn't help but stare at how lovely she was. He was certain that he was failing miserably. It had been a week since the wedding and Gold had thought of the pretty brunette several times since, thinking he'd never see her again and it was a nice little fantasy he could play with in his mind. And here she was. In his shop.

"Well – I have a few summer classes I'm teaching and I'm looking for guest speakers. One of them is doing an intensive study of the war, particularly its impact on Europe, and – well, Bae had mentioned before that you're a veteran and I thought it might be interesting if you could come and talk to them. Most of the vets I know fought with the US military and I thought you might give a different perspective on things. He also mentioned you owned an antique shop so – I looked you up in the phone book and thought I'd pay you a visit to see if you'd help me out."

"I see." Gold turned his back to her, picked up a dust rag, and began to clean some of the items that were behind the counter.

"Mr. Gold – these students are coming from all over the state, they're all at the top of their classes, many of them are well on their way to scholarships in history, they could learn so much from you." Gold turned around and faced her.

"Miss French, I am not the least bit interested in talking about that war," Gold replied sternly, and he gripped his cane tightly as he glanced down at his leg.

"I – I'm sorry, I – I didn't think about – there won't be any personal questions, I promise. I'd make sure they know that." Gold was silent. "I just don't know anyone else that fought for the British army." Gold looked down, not saying a word. "It's okay, I'll – I'll come up with something else. Sorry I bothered you."

"What time and day would this be?" Belle turned around.

"Wednesday – class is at one."

"No personal questions."

"No, it – it would be very history based. What the area was like before and after. It would be nice to hear a perspective from someone who was actually there. You'll really do it then?"

"I suppose someone has to have the sense to steer this generation of degenerates in the proper direction. Might as well be me." Belle's face lit up with a smile.

"Oh, thank you Mr. Gold, thank you so much! Do you have a pen and paper?" Gold opened a drawer under his cash register and handed her something to write with. "This is the address and my classroom number. When you come in, you'll turn right down the first hall and I'm about halfway down on your left. Can you get there a bit early, say twelve thirty? I'll show you what we've been studying so that you know what they've already learned."

"That'll be fine," he replied.

"Okay then – I'll see you Wednesday."

"Yes. See you Wednesday," Gold agreed. He smiled as she left the shop, and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

Gold arrived at the school a bit early on Wednesday, and peeked around the corner as he knocked on the open door to Belle's classroom. "May I come in, Miss French?" Belle was sitting behind her desk reading, and she perked up at the sound of his voice.

"Mr. Gold! Yes, please come in! You're early." Belle stood up and walked over to one of the book shelves. "You can have a seat anywhere, let me get out some of the things the class has been working on." Gold ambled over to her desk, and immediately spotted a book sitting on the corner.

" _The Feminine Mystique_? Don't tell me you're reading this rubbish." Gold picked up the book and looked it over while making a face as he leaned against the desk.

"How do you know it's rubbish? Have you read it?"

"I don't need to read it to know what's in it."

"You – you kind of do. Don't you believe in equal rights, Mr. Gold?"

"Of course I believe in equal rights. What I don't believe in is this extreme feminist nonsense."

"Nonsense? Mr. Gold, do you know how hard I had to fight to go to school, to get my degree? Do you know how hard I had to fight to get a JOB in my field? I had to come all the way to Maine just to find work. I graduated top of my class and I interviewed for thirty-seven positions in four different states before I was offered a job. And I make less than my male colleagues – even the ones I'm far more qualified than. How on earth is that equal? I actually had one man tell me on an interview that I'd be better off interviewing for a husband than a job, and that there's no excuse for someone who looks like me to be working at my age, can you believe that?"

"I didn't realize I was coming here for a lecture on women's rights."

"Well, you brought it up, not me."

"I merely made a comment – which I stand by."

"Alright – then read the book."

"And why would I do that?"

"You can't have it both ways, Mr. Gold. You don't get to have opinions on things you're not informed on, at least not in my classroom. That's not how I teach."

"I'm not a student of yours, Miss French."

"Well, maybe you should be." Belle picked up the book and offered it to Gold. "Read the book. Then, when you're through – if you still think it's rubbish, I will be more than happy to sit down with you and have an equally informed debate over the matter. And if it changes your mind then – well, we can sit and discuss that as well." Gold glanced at the book. His son had tried to get him to be more open-minded when it came to current issues, and he rebuffed his boy at every turn. What made this girl any different? She was far more cocky and full of attitude than Bae had ever been. He was doing her a favor as it was, talking to her students. Why should he even bother with this?

"Alright," Gold replied, and he took the book from Belle. "I look forward to our discussion on this matter."

"So do I," Belle agreed.

* * *

"Hey, Papa – we got some of the honeymoon pictures back this morning, we should have the rest tomorrow," Bae said as he barged into Gold's shop. Gold was standing behind the counter reading the book that Belle had loaned him, and he quickly closed it and hid it behind his back when Bae entered. "What's that behind your back?"

"Oh – just a book I'm reading. Let me see the pictures," Gold said, trying to distract his son as he shoved the book under the counter. Bae jumped behind the counter and grabbed the book, curiosity getting the better of him.

" _The Feminine Mystique_? Are you kidding me?"

"What? You've read it."

"Yeah, and you wanted me to drop my pants to make sure my equipment was still intact. Come on, man – is this some kind of joke?"

"I thought I'd give it a chance." Bae started to laugh.

"You don't give anything chances, Papa. Especially not this. Come on, all the buttoned-up suit types like you that I knew in college would only read something like this if their girlfriend asked them to." Bae paused for a moment. "Papa, you – you seeing someone?"

"Bae, don't be ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous, I know about you and Cora Mills, everyone did."

"Can we not bring that up, please?"

"Papa – you're not sleeping with a married woman again, are you?"

"I am not."

"So who is she then? Are there any single women left at that stuffy country club of yours?"

"I am not involved with anyone at the country club in any way other than professionally. Do I get to see the photos or not?"

"So how far are you in the book?" Bae asked, continuing to press the issue. Gold shot him an angry glare as the door to his shop opened, the bell on his door handle ringing as usual.

"Hey – here's your ice cream," Emma said as she handed Bae a cone. "Little Henry keeps wanting sherbet. Never cared for the stuff before, I don't know why that's what I crave all of a sudden."

"Henry? Who's Henry?" Gold asked.

"The baby, Mr. G. That's what we're naming him. Or her," Emma replied.

"Emma had a dream that the baby's name should be Henry – we like it." Bae took a few tastes of his ice cream as he put his arm around Emma.

"God help this poor child if it's a girl. Are you mental?"

"Papa, if it's a girl, we'll name her Henrietta, but – she'll still be Henry. It'll be different."

"I'm pretty sure it's a boy, though. I've got a good instinct about this stuff," Emma said, and then she noticed the book on the counter. "Hey, _The Feminine Mystique_ – you reading this, Mr. G?"

"Emma, would you please stop calling me that? I told you that you're more than welcome to call me Carson."

"You don't look like a Carson. And I'm not gonna call you Papa, it's too weird. So – you like it?" Emma asked.

"What?" Gold asked in return.

"The book. It's good, isn't it?" Gold rolled his eyes.

"I suppose it's not as terrible as I expected it to be," Gold admitted.

"Papa's got a girlfriend – she's making him read it," Bae teased.

"I do not have a girlfriend, I'm just – trying new things," Gold said, and Bae started laughing.

"Papa, you haven't tried anything new since 1956 when you finally bought a television, and you complained about it for three months. Come on Emma, we gotta go, we're supposed to be at Ruby and Victor's for dinner in an hour." Bae tossed an envelope onto the counter. "Give the pictures a look, Papa – I'll come by with the rest tomorrow, then I'll need those back, we're taking them to show to Emma's parents tomorrow night. There's a few wedding candids in there as well, the photographer is supposed to have everything for us next week. Have fun with the book, and – whatever else goes along with it."

"Get out," Gold spat at him as he rolled his eyes.

"Bye, Mr. G!" Emma said as she and Bae walked out the door. Gold sighed as he picked up the envelope and began to look through the photos. He stopped when he came across a group shot from the wedding reception, and zeroed in on the image of Belle French, standing with a group of guests, talking and laughing and looking absolutely beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of my prompt verse. Please visit my Tumblr blog to take part in prompting me for this verse.
> 
> sunflowerrosedaisy prompted on Tumblr with Prompt #9: There's a leaf in your hair.
> 
> Thank you for the feedback - it is very welcome!
> 
> Author's note: Just a reminder that this is set in 1967. Words that are considered "not PC" now were different then, and I'm trying to stay true to the era in which this story takes place.

"So – what did you think?" Belle asked, then she took a sip of her iced tea. Belle and Gold were seated across from one another on the outdoor patio of a restaurant.

"I will admit it wasn't as bad as I presumed it would be. She made some good points," Gold confessed, and Belle smirked a bit.

"Well, I'm glad. It's not a perfect book – there are many things she doesn't address at all – I know that colored women aren't exactly fond of it, and rightly so. I guess not everything can change at one time no matter how much you think it should."

"People are slow to change. It's our nature to want things to be as they always have been."

"It's also our nature to invent, to create, and to see that sometimes – we were wrong."

"Yes – there's that as well." Gold took a sip of his drink, and a furious gust of wind rushed through the patio as he did so. The napkins that were on their table blew off, and Belle got up and chased them, retrieving all but one.

"Well, that came out of nowhere. Got to love Maine weather." Gold smirked at her, and suddenly Belle reached out toward him and brushed his hair a bit, and Gold's eyes widened with surprise. "There's a leaf in your hair. There – it's gone now." Belle looked up at him with a smirk on her face, then took another drink.

"Oh – thank you," Gold said, looking down nervously. Both were silent for a moment, until Belle finally spoke up.

"So – would you like to do another book discussion? I really love to read and not many of my friends are as enthusiastic about it as I am."

"I – I suppose that would be nice. What would you like to read?"

"Well – Dr. King's new book was just published not too long ago; I haven't read it yet. Would you be interested in reading that?"

"Actually, yes I would."

"So you – you support the civil rights movement then?"

"Of course I do."

"So do I. Hey – a friend of mine is giving a talk at the university tomorrow, would you like to go with me and hear him? His name is Merlin – he's working on his doctorate in history. He's marched with Dr. King."

"Merlin? Like the magician in the King Arthur story?" Belle giggled a bit.

"Well, apparently, his real name is Marlon Knight but his little brother used to say it 'Merlin' and it kind of stuck – at least that's the story he tells. He's a great speaker, I think you'll like him."

"Well, that – that sounds interesting. Yes, I'd love to go with you."

"You know, speaking of great speakers – you did a wonderful job in my class. They're still talking about you. Would you consider coming back?"

"I um – I don't know what else I'd have to say."

"Well, they're really interested in the nostalgia end of the thirties and forties; maybe you could talk about some of that."

"You know, I have quite a few things in my shop that I could bring to show them. Would that be alright?"

"Oh, that sounds perfect! Can you show me what you have? I mean – in your shop." Belle blushed a bit.

"We can go there right now if you like."

"Let's do that, then. We can stop at the bookstore and get copies of that book as well." Belle stood up and Gold grabbed his cane and did the same, following her out to the sidewalk.

* * *

"This is my private collection. Things I brought with me from Scotland," Gold said as he led Belle into a small back room of the shop that was filled with an array of items not for sale in the store.

"Wow. You're really quite the collector, aren't you?"

"Well, most of these things belonged to my aunties – they raised me. They were the ones who were the collectors. I just couldn't bear to sell them; all of these things meant a great deal to them." Gold moved to an old Victrola that was sitting on the shelf. "I used to sit and play this thing for hours when I was a lad. I do have some phonograph records here and it does work; I could bring this."

"It's beautiful." Belle couldn't help but notice the spinning wheel sitting in the corner. "An antique spinning wheel? Did your aunts use this?"

"Yeah – they were quite the avid spinners. Even taught me."

"You – you spin?"

"Used to. Haven't done it in years, but – I did get quite good at it."

"I bet you could pick it up again. What else do you have? I mean, I don't expect you to drag all of this along with you."

"I've got quite a few old photos we could put on display."

"Oh, look, an antique tea set! It's lovely!" Belle picked up one of the hand painted cups and looked it over. "Did this belong to your aunts?"

"Yes, they enjoyed their tea. I do have some of their jewelry as well."

"Oh, I'd love to see that." Belle moved to put the teacup back on the shelf, but it slipped out of her hand, falling to the floor, and she gasped in horror. "Oh – oh, gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that!" Belle picked up the teacup and looked it over, noticing a small knick in the rim. "It – it's chipped. You can barely see it."

"It's just a cup – no matter," Gold said, taking the teacup from her and putting it back on the shelf.

"But – but it's an antique."

"Miss French, that tea set is barely worth fifty cents, if that. I keep it more for sentimental reasons than anything. As I said, it's no matter."

"Well, I – I am sorry. I won't touch anything else. I can be a bit clumsy at times."

"Yes, I do recall that. It's okay – try having a young, rambunctious son barreling through the shop for years. I promise you, Bae has broken far more valuable things in this place than a teacup."

"Well, pretty soon you'll be in the same situation with a grandchild."

"Yes – I'm afraid I will be." Gold picked up an old jewelry box and set it on the table. "None of these things are breakable, so feel free to touch them. I honestly haven't looked at these in years."

"Oh, I love old jewelry – I used to go through my mother's things all the time. See this pendant?" Belle pointed out the necklace she was wearing. "Her grandmother gave this to her on her sixteenth birthday. She gave it to me on mine, I wear it all the time."

"It's lovely," Gold commented. Belle opened the jewelry box and began to rummage through it, admiring all the trinkets inside of it. She stopped when she came across an item that clearly stood out among everything else. It was a medal, and Belle examined it closely.

"This – this is a Victoria Cross. Where did you get this?" Belle asked.

"Oh, um – that – that's mine," Gold admitted. "Forgot I put it there."

"You – you were awarded a Victoria Cross? But they're rare – they're only given for the most exceptional bravery in combat." Belle examined the medal again, then looked up at him. "You're not just a veteran – you're a war hero. This should be in a frame at your home, on display."

"I did what I had to do. I prefer not to think much about it." Gold grabbed the medal from Belle, as well as the jewelry box. "I have a business dinner to attend this evening, and I really need to go home and get ready for that."

"Oh, of course. I um – tomorrow then? How do you want to do this, you want to pick me up?"

"I suppose I could do that. What's your address?"

"Oh, I live in an apartment above the library. You know where that is, right?"

"Why do you live there?"

"Well, it's what I can afford. It's not bad – I'm hoping to move in a year or two, been saving money every month. It's kind of hard for women to find a place; most rentals want a man to sign off for you. So anyhow, the talk starts at six, so – pick me up at five-thirty then? I'll be waiting outside."

"I'll be there."

"I'm – really sorry about the cup. Goodnight, Mr. – you know, I think we've gotten to know each other well enough to not be that formal. What's your first name?"

"Carson," Gold replied.

"May I call you that?"

"I suppose that'll be fine."

"Alright. Goodnight – Carson."

"Goodnight – Belle." Belle smiled at him as she left the room, and when he heard the bell on his door jingle, indicating that she had left, he looked down at the medal he was holding. A single tear fell down his cheek as he opened the jewelry box, tossed the medal back inside it as if it was no more important than any other trinket inside, closed the lid and put the box on the shelf, hiding it behind several other items.

* * *

"Belle!" Merlin called out as he mingled through the university crowd after he had finished his talk. The crowd was populated with mostly young college students and a handful of young adults in their twenties, the majority of them black. In his perfectly tailored suit, and leaning on his cane, Gold stood out in the crowd and received a number of odd stares from many of those in attendance.

"Merlin! Hey – great speech, I'm so glad I was able to make it! Merlin, this is Carson Gold – he's a friend of mine."

"Hey, nice to meet you," Merlin said, offering Gold his hand.

"The pleasure is mine. It was a fine speech."

"Carson and I are reading Dr. King's new book – we kind of have this little private book club going," Belle said. "You know, Carson is a vet like your father – he has a Victoria Cross."

"Really? That's quite an honor, sir. My father received a purple heart. He's been my inspiration for my entire life. I wouldn't be where I am today without him."

"Well, I'm sure he's quite proud of you as well," Gold commented.

"I wouldn't know. He – he was stationed in Pearl Harbor in 1941."

"Oh. Well, I'm very sorry. I'm sure he was a wonderful man."

"Well, I've – I've got some good memories of him before he left us. I'm pretty sure he'd be quite happy with what I've accomplished. I'm the first one in my family to go to college."

"Well, it looks like you've done well for yourself. I look forward to reading _your_ book someday."

"He definitely has a book in him, if not more than one," Belle agreed.

"Well, I'm going to bring the car around – it was very nice meeting you, Mr. Knight." Gold turned and left, and Merlin gave Belle a curious look.

"Book club?" he asked. "Really, Belle? Who is this guy?"

"He – he's a friend. I think." Merlin just stared at her. "He's the father of one of my former TA's, I met him at his son's wedding. I was looking for some presenters for my summer sessions and I remembered that his son told me about his father serving in the British Army during the war so I asked if he'd be willing to come and talk to them, and – well, we just struck up conversation from there."

"Is that all you struck up?"

"Merlin!" Belle smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "It's not like that."

"I hope not. The guy's old enough to be your father. And he dresses like a Republican."

"Not all Republicans are bad; my father's a Republican."

"And when was the last time you talked to him again?"

"Carson was willing to come to your talk, shouldn't that say enough about him?"

"You like him," Merlin said, a big grin coming across his face.

"Maybe I do. He's – interesting. And very nice. I thought you were more open minded than that."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Whatever makes you happy. We're still on for next month though, right? You're not gonna ditch me just because you got a new boyfriend, are you?"

"He's not my boyfriend. And no, I'm not ditching you, I've been working very hard on our project. I'll call you next week, we can set up a time to meet and work everything out. I'd better go, Carson is probably waiting with the car by now."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Belle stuck her tongue out at him, then turned and left.

* * *

"Well – here we are," Gold said as he pulled up in front of the library.

"Yes – here we are. Thank you for going with me tonight, Carson. I hope you enjoyed Merlin's talk."

"It was quite enlightening. Thank you for inviting me." Gold got out of the car and moved to the passenger door, opening it for Belle.

"You didn't have to do that," Belle said.

"I understand you're a 'liberated woman' and all but there's nothing wrong with good manners."

"I suppose you're right," Belle agreed. Gold glanced up at the window on the second floor of the library. It had several large pieces of tape across it.

"Is that your apartment window?" he asked.

"Yes, it is."

"It's cracked. You should call your landlord, get that fixed."

"You think I haven't? The wind blew hard at it two months ago, I've been on my building manager about it ever since. Leroy said he's been pestering the landlord for the okay to replace the window, but so far nothing, so the best he can do is patch it till then. It's not that bad for summer, but if it's not fixed before winter comes I'll be freezing up there. To be honest, I've only ever dealt with the building manager. I've never even met the landlord, it's some corporation. _CG Properties_ – I guess they own lots of buildings, I'm probably not even on their radar. I was promised an air conditioner in my window when I moved in – that never happened either. I gave up on that fight some time ago. You know, if I ever met 'CG' or whoever the jerk is that owns that company, I'd certainly give them a piece of my mind. They're barely one notch above a slumlord if you ask me. Honestly, I'd have moved long ago if I could afford it, but – as I told you – I can't right now. Well, I should be going – I have a class first thing in the morning. Thank you for coming with me tonight; I'll see you Wednesday then at my class?"

"Yeah – see you then." Belle lingered a bit, wondering if Gold was going to give her a kiss or a hug or anything, but there was no move on his part.

"Well – goodnight, Carson."

"Goodnight, Belle." Belle turned and walked toward her door, and she stood in the doorway and watched as Gold got back into his car and drove away.

* * *

Back at his home, Gold entered his study and opened a file cabinet drawer. He rifled through the files until he found the one he was looking for. Gold took the file and moved to his desk chair, then he sat down and opened it up. He paged through the paperwork inside of it until he found what he was looking for. It was a lease for the apartment above the library, signed by Belle French.


End file.
